


Graves Become Gardens

by Karios



Category: Being Erica, Love/Hate (TV)
Genre: Adam as a Doctor, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Explicit Consent, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23291794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: Adam puts off meeting Siobhan, and it's the first of many things he shouldn't be doing when it comes to her.
Relationships: Siobhan Delaney/Adam Fitzpatrick
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1
Collections: All The Nice Things Flash Exchange 2020





	Graves Become Gardens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/gifts).



Adam only goes back to Ireland because his father died. Of course the sack of shit has himself shipped all the way back across the Atlantic, just to make it difficult for Adam to spit on his grave. 

Once he's kicking around Da's old neighborhood, the flashes of his patient's darkest memories become more frequent. It makes sense; she's around here too somewhere. That doesn't mean he's looking for her. He's not.

It's just a coincidence that he goes into a pub, just for one drink, just to clear his head, steady his nerves. The woman's life is unsettling, and unfortunately familiar. The violence, the secrets, the pain. He does want to help her, really he does, just after he gets his head on straight.

He takes a seat at the bar, points to the drink in front of whomever is at the next stool over. "I'll have one of those," he tells the bartender, as it's easier than picking anything out for himself. He skids a credit card across the bar. "Start a tab."

It's the owner of the drink who answers him: "You will?" She swivels to face him, and as she looks up at him, another memory not his own hits him. This one's full of gunfire. He can feel her sense of betrayal.

"Shit," Adam says, even though he means to only think it. Is that how she dies if he fucks this up? The panic hits the moment the flash clears, and he realizes he's still staring at her. The very same woman whose regrets keep bleeding out to him.

"You all right?" she asks, her brows drawn together. The suspicion is evident, but there's also a genuine note of something kinder there, concern, maybe. After everything he has seen of her life, he wonders how she manages to give a damn about anyone but herself.

Adam stops marveling at her long enough to say, "I'm fine, sorry." He knows he can't possibly look all right though, so he reaches out for the shot and downs it with his eyes still on Siobhan. "You're Siobhan Delaney."

It's the wrong thing to say, he knows. Siobhan is up and off her stool in an instant, pressing something into his lower ribcage and he doesn't dare look down to see what. "Who the hell wants to know?"

"I'm Adam Fitzpatrick. My father named my brother Johnny after Power. We're in the same business and I'm not here to hurt you." 

Siobhan pulled back whatever she'd been holding to his middle. Adam breathed a sigh of relief. It was short-lived as she hauled off and punched him in the jaw.

Unprepared for a punch, and still off balance in more ways than one, Adam crashed off the opposite side of the stool, onto the floor. "Jesus." He ran a hand along his jaw. "Good right hook you have there."

"Thank you," Siobhan says, and sits back down. "I'll have a vodka; straight; on him."

Adam gets to his feet, slowly, deliberately, so as not to startle her. He nods to the bartender. "You heard the lady."

The bartender moves off to fill the order, and Siobhan glances back at Adam. "I don't get called a lady very often."

"You must be surrounded by idiots then."

"Watch who you're talking about," she fires back.

"Why? They punch as well as you do?"

Siobhan smiles at that; her dark eyes glitter with amusement. She's beautiful when she's not furious or terrified, he thinks.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Adam asks her then. 

What he means to convey is whether Siobhan wants to leave this lifestyle behind, the criminal underworld and the murders and all the associated horrors. So he's a bit surprised when she says, "Why not?" tips back most of her drink, and leads him out of the bar.

Adam lingers just long enough to retrieve his credit card from the bartender, then races to catch up with her. Siobhan catches him by one arm as he comes through the door, shoves him up against the brick wall, and kisses him as intensely as she's done everything else. 

She's taking the opportunity to pat him down, a part of his mind realizes, and he is impressed by her planning and presence of mind. His conscious thought has, by contrast, all but left him. He's too focused on her fingers as they skim his body, the stale scent of smoke clinging to her hair, the ashy taste of the vodka left on her tongue. She pulls back, apparently satisfied that he's weapons-free and with his kissing technique because she asks, "Where to?" 

He should be giving her his card and the speech about regrets and showing her to his office. He definitely should not say, "I don't have a room yet. Show me to whatever's nearby? Some place worthy of you," he amends.

She looks at him like he's gone mad, types something into her phone, and the two of them set off down the street in a companionable silence.

Several more should nots follow. Adam should not be booking a room for two, nor kissing her like his life depends on it, nor pulling his t-shirt over his head, but by the time Siobhan shuts and locks the room door behind them, he's only caring about one thing.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks. 

"My you're fucking quaint," she says, and moves in to kiss him again.

She stops her, his hands on her shoulders, but with no force behind his touch. "That's not yes."

Siobhan rolls her eyes. "Aye Adam Fitzpatrick, I swear I want to fuck your brains out. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Adam replies, and then his mouth is back on her, kissing the underside of her jaw, the hollow of her throat, the juncture between her neck and shoulder. He dispatches with her dress, balling it up and tossing it free of the path between them and the bed. He drops to his knees and plants a kiss on each of her breasts.

Tomorrow, he really needs to get to work on saving her life. Tonight, he's going to worship every last inch of her.

* * *

Sometime later, they are tangled up together on the bed, spent. Siobhan shifts to pull her head off his chest. "Leaving so soon?" Adam murmurs, giving her another lazy kiss.

"Duty calls. You know how it is."

He sits up. "If you stay until morning, I'll make you breakfast."

She lifts one eyebrow. "In a hotel room?"

"You'll find I'm very resourceful. Come on," he shoots her a bit of a pleading look. "Can't it wait?"

"You can't tell me what to do," she snarls at him.

Adam holds up his hands. "I wouldn't dare. I value my face in its current shape."

Siobhan appraises him for another long look, then crosses back to the bed. "You're not really in my line of work, are you?"

"I was. For years. Specialized in enforcement. Beat a lot of old anger into a lot of supposedly deserving people."

She settles down next to him. "And now?"

"I'm a gardener."

She laughs at him.

"Got a problem with gardens?"

"No," she says, straight-faced. "Need somewhere to bury the bodies."

He laughs, in case it's a joke, and he's rewarded with another of her smiles.

"So what?" she presses on. "You got out, and now you think it's your job to rescue me or something?"

 _God I hope so_ , he thinks. "Do you need rescuing?" he asks instead.

"Hell no."

God, he had his work cut out for him. "Then, no. I already agreed I would never tell a lady what to do. Maybe I'll come work for you, bury all of those stray bodies."

"Not a lady," she drawls sleepily, her eyes fluttering shut. Adam brushes a stray lock of hair out of Siobhan's face and sighs.

He was going to be in so much trouble.


End file.
